Romantic Valentine's Day story

I have a lot of thick curly hair. Which is fine by me; it's low-maintenance and pretty much styles itself.

But the first time Beau told me he thought it was pretty and he put his hand in it...

he couldn't get it back out. :)

(P.S. If you click the link, you'll find the reference at the 1:43 mark)

I hear...

that the new ginormous Starbucks Trenta cup is large enough to hold an entire bottle of wine (with about five ounces to spare).

That's my kinda sippy cup.

Wine jokes aside, who the f**k can drink that much coffee in a sitting? In a DAY?

Prepare for the Type A in your life to become even cuddlier. 

*Sigh*

Must our nation supersize everything?

I've been driving by your house, Valentine

You are about to see the creepiest direct mail campaign ever.

It came in a pink envelope.

Kent Whipple wants to be my plumbing/furnace valentine.

The Card.

 The card is innocuous enough. But THE LETTER is not to be believed.

"Whenever I see someone doing work at your house, I wonder if they know we are neighbors and that I could be their plumbing/furnace valentine?"

"P.S. If  I see someone else's truck in your driveway when I drive by, that's ok. I'll drive by and choke back a tear."

The Dukes of Hazzard

YEEEEE HAWWWWWWW!

When I was a little kid, I loved this show. It made Friday night that much more exciting (after all, I already got to stay up past my bedtime, which was a huge coup).

I didn't understand what bootlegging or moonshine were, but I understood car chases and silly police deputies. And I had a huge crush on Bo Duke. It was high-brow entertainment!

But there was one thing that always rang false about the show.

No, it wasn't the fact that one car could never survive all of those ridiculous jumps (though it couldn't--they demolished over 300 cars in the filming of the series).

It was this: even as a little kid, I never believed that anyone, even a hillbilly, would name their son Luke Duke.

Warm, toasty tootsies

Along with my collection of winter coats, I have quite an array of winter footwear as well.

But nothing is better for a snowy day than these Sporto boots.

They're cute, they're warm, they're comfortable. And they're absolutely waterproof. You can tromp through the snow with impunity! One caveat: They don't breathe, but rubber boots aren't really supposed to, are they?

They're pricey, but at this time of year, you can usually find them in the bargain section at DSW. 

You won't be disappointed.

Another phrase I loathe

"No offense."

If you find yourself saying this, you've obviously said something offensive.

So either own up to it and apologize or STFU.

Nine things I noticed/learned over the weekend

1. Playboy has three new scents for women. If you want to smell like implants, spray-tan, or Photoshop, YOU'RE IN LUCK!
2. If you buy an iPod shuffle at the Apple store, ask for the orange one. Asking for tangerine will get you a confused look and a head scratch. 
3. Teenaged girls are stupid enough to wear daisy dukes and spaghetti straps to the mall in near-blizzard conditions. Was the attention worth the frostbite, girls?
4. At Cherry Creek Mall, the Shorts in the Snow phenomenon runs rampant.
5. A hipster douchebag in Urban Outfitters wore an eye patch; it went so well with his ensemble that I honestly think it was an ironic (eyeronic?) eye patch. 
6. I saw it with my own eyes: a teenager wore shorts so baggy that he pantsed himself in the mall with the mere act of walking. It. Was. Awesome. (How hard is it to wear pants that fit? And, yes, I know I sound old when I complain about this.)
7. American tradition or not, when it comes to the Super Bowl, I'm pretty much just in it for the food.
8. Though she likely thought so, the fact that Fergie's boobs had light bulbs and sparkles all over them did not make up for the heinous Super Bowl halftime show.
9. Some folks party like kings in the parking garage. Check it out:

Peppermint Schnapps (90 Proof) and Keystone Light, baby!!!

Sick day

I woke up yesterday with a cough, a fever, the inability to breathe through my nose, and an overall feeling of meh.

After I called in to work to explain that I didn't want to do my Typhoid Mary impersonation, I hung up and did what any other 37-year-old, red-blooded, sniffly American would do.

I called my mom.

At the end of the day, we all need someone to make a fuss over us when we're sick. And when I call them, I'm completely honest: I just called to whine about being sick and get a little attention.

And I immediately feel better. Dad puts on his concerned voice and asks what I'm taking for it. Then he puts Mom on and she really pours on the pity. It feels so good when you feel that bad.

Midway through the morning, Dad called from the pharmacy to ask what kind of medicine I needed. He told me he'd send it over with mom later on.

In the meantime, I sat on the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness (daytime TV is only good for white noise while you nap) with my furry heating pad.

That's Daisy, on my lap, under the electric blanket. Smart cat.

A couple of hours pass, and then I see Mom tromping up the sidewalk in the snow with grocery bags. She brought me tea, tissues, orange juice, a trashy magazine, and something that almost made it worth being sick:

Valentine cupcakes!

She. Is. The. Best.

Pounders Ink

Time for a shameless plug.

Beau has incredible artistic talent and I'm pretty proud of him. 

It would be awesome if you decided to Like him on Facebook.

Guilt-coated issue

I own a few coats.

I live in Colorado, so that's understandable, right? But you know it's getting out of hand when fellow Coloradans are stunned enough to remark Where do you store all of those?

It's not as though I have a whole bedroom devoted to coat storage; I just converted my kitchen pantry into a coat closet when I bought the place. (I wasn't much of a cook back then anyway--not like the Campbell's soup recipe gourmet that I am now.)

A few months back, Mom and I were shopping at some outlet stores in the mountains and she brought over an adorable orange pea coat for me to try on. She loved it on me and told me I should get it.

I already have an orange pea coat, I said.
Oh, Mom replied, I thought you had an orange rain coat.
I have an orange raincoat too, I mumbled.

That's right, I already own an orange pea coat and an orange rain coat. I'm to the point of repeating ridiculous colors.

And when one of my dearest, best friends announced to me that she was moving to Australia to be with the love of her life, my first thought was I'm going to miss you so much!

My second thought was That's a warm climate. For the love of God! What about your coats, woman???

Sigh... I think I have a problem.